Resident Evil Outbreak: Darkness Falls
by Ghettovenger
Summary: Not S.T.A.R.S members, nor paramilitary soldiers, eight simple people living simple lives must confront the the horror of Umbrella and cronies when the Outbreak occurs. contains characters and basic plot setup of Resident Evil: Outbreak
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I STILL do not understand the reason for a disclaimer…but what the hell. The Resident Evil series was not created by and is not currently possessed by myself or any of my affiliates, at the time of this chapter's publication…

….

….

…or is it?

A/N: Call me TTA, I really hate this username.

RESIDENT EVIL

OUTBREAK: DARKNESS FALLS

Everybody likes to drink, right?

So everybody goes to J's bar, because they have beers dating back from the Civil War…and they're still FRESH. In fact, they are SO hardcore they use untouched beer kegs as tables and just let the customers stick straws through the top. Or so the rumor goes.

It's easy to understand, then, why our story begins here.

**J's Bar, Downtown Raccoon City**

**September 27th**

**7:00 PM******

_I'm REALLLYYY drunk right now._

True to form, Kevin Ryman drowned the thought with a shot of…well, something. He HAD asked Will to be creative today, and Will always came through when it came to mixing alky. Good man.

He sat at the bar and drowned his troubles with another hit off his mug. He had failed the S.T.A.R.S application test for the THIRD time running, and with the current member's sudden suspension it was likely he wouldn't get another chance for some time. But no time for that now. Beer is good.

Jack's Bar was a popular hangout for all sorts of people, he mused through his booze. People of different status and income came to hang out and share a beer. Even in his extremely smashed state, he could see the diversity of the crowd. Pity none of his officer friends were present…

A shattering sound could be heard through the fog.

"Ah!" An exclamation of surprise was heard throughout the bar. A rat had surprised Cindy, the popular waitress, to the point where she had dropped Kevin's spent shot glass on the floor. _Too bad_ was the only thought Ryman could summon through his delirium, as he signaled for another drink. As he did, he let his gaze wander only to fall on a pretty-but-busy lady, looking intent at her expensive Dell notebook. _Man, I'd tap that in a HEARTBEAT _was the thought that came to mind. Out of his league, he supposed sadly. Will slid another glass down the table, theatrically, and THAT drove the pretty lady from his mind in a hurry. Things were going too damn fast at the moment for him to make sense of it without the aid of Samuel Adams. And when the Asian girl stepped on his foot on her way to the bathroom, he didn't even notice.

Mark Wilkins, meanwhile, was merely trying to breathe some life into his friend.

"Aren't you eatin' anythang?"

No response.

"Hey…Bawb, where's your mind at?"

Bob stirred slowly.

"W-what?"

Before Mark could speak more, it happened. The door creaked open with practiced bravado, a sign of things to come. Through the entranceway lurched a man, hair hanging low over his inverted face. He smelled like death.

"Huh…what a weird customer…" Will was young and stupid, not recognizing danger like a more experienced bartender might have. Opting to leave the firearm stored under the bar behind him, he took measured steps towards the newcomer.

Kevin frowned. _Who-_

His thought was unintentionally voiced from the other side of the bar.

"Who is this guy?" Mark said, his honed danger sense whooping like a police siren. He too was interrupted, this time by falling mass. "Wha-"

Bob slid off his stool and crashed to the floor, in a heap.

"Bawb! He's unconscious!" The older black man said after a moment of frenzied movement. "Are ya all right!" he said, unnecessarily.

The customer still hadn't moved. Will made as if to peer closer at the intruder-

-and at that moment, the…_THING…_raised its head. It had been human, once. Now, it was a twisted mockery of humanity, shreds of flesh and blood covering his face, even some splattered on its one good eye. The other had been clawed out violently, perhaps by one of its victims.

An living corpse.

It lunged then, suddenly and with grim intent. It grabbed the young bartender with surprising strength and bit heavily into his neck.

"AHHH!!" Will screamed. Using all of the presence of mind he had left, Will threw the creature back out the door from whence it came. He turned the key in the door and locked it before falling to the ground, dazed from blood loss.

Kevin had already leapt to his feet, the alcohol burned from his system by the horrific attack. _What the FUC-_

"AH!"

The young woman he had noticed earlier had leapt backward, away from the massive window pane and onto her ass. Her reaction was understandable.

_We're deader then shit, aren't we?_

More of the zombies. No other description fit. They pressed against the thin pane of decorative glass hungrily, desire written all over their rotten flesh.

Inside the bar, pandemonium.

"We're going to die, we're going to die!"

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, this can't be happening…"

"I don't know what to do…"

"Bawb! Bawb! Wake up!"

"They gotta send in S.T.A.R.S!"

"Dear god!"

"We have to get out of here!"

Some stood immobile, in horror. Others ran from one side of the bar to another, like chickens at the block. Still others were talking to themselves, pleading, shouting, crying…

**"QUIET!"**

The bar suddenly became dead silent. It took Kevin a moment to realize that the passionate speaker was, in fact, himself. The sound of zombies pounding against the rapidly-weakening door was deafening in the silence

8 faces were pointed at his direction, all of them asking the same thing in a completely non-spoken manner. _What__ do we do? What do _**I** _do?_

His mouth went dry. _I…have to say something…_

They NEEDED him to talk to them, to get them moving, to keep them alive, to give them the spark they needed to seek survival on their own. The gravity of the situation had momentarily driven them insane, and it was HIS job to return their sanity to them.

And suddenly, the words he needed to say, the words he HAD to say, finally sprung forth.

"You and you!" he said, pointing at a terrified-looking black man and a calm, composed working man. "Push those barrels in front of that door!" The barrels had been placed there for use as tables, but they were heavy and could help barricade the door…for a moment. They moved to carry out their orders.

"Cindy!"

"Y-Yes?!" she managed. The shock had left her worse for wear.

"Is there another exit from this building?"

"…um…"

"We don't have all day, dammit!" he swore.

"…there is a way, through the staff room, but we need to go through THAT door…" she pointed at a heavy door set behind the bar, "…but it's locked, and I don't have the key."

"Then, you and…" he paused for a moment.

"I'm Yoko, Yoko Suzuki." the Asian girl said quickly.

"Kevin Ryman. Ok, Yoko, you and Cindy find that key." The bashing was getting louder at the door, but it seemed to be holding at the moment. A well-cultured voice was talking over the din.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not equipped to help you at the moment. Please, allow me to help the young man there…I do have some trauma supplies that could aid him."

"'s okay, doc. I'll be fine. Just do what you can with the kid." Bob said, holding his stomach and looking anything but fine. Perhaps the food disagreed with him. The doctor paused over the crouching form of the bartender, and shook his head. The cartaroid had been completely severed; how the boy could still be alive seemed to baffle him.

From the doorway, the horrific sound of shattering hinges set the stage for the next act, the Invasion. The zombies had arrived.

"NO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!"

They crawled over the barrels and descended hungrily upon the prone bartender. Feverishly, they ripped flesh from the bone and spattered his juvenile blood across the (relatively) virgin floors.

"Will!!!" Cindy tore away from the group, and dashed towards her coworker with suicidal intent. What could one waitress do against the Black Plague of the Undead?

Fortunately, a Mr. Mark Wilkins had a more level head. Death and destruction were the demons that plagued him constantly, and one more horror just couldn't do much against his iron shield. Or so he lied to himself. In any case, he managed to keep the distraught women from certain death.

"Go go go!" he shouted.

"I'm trying! The door won't open!" Yoko cried, twisting the doorknob again and again.

"Try putting the goddamn key in first!" Mark shouted. The zombies had noticed the grouping of live prey in the corner, and were advancing speedily.

"Got it!", Came the triumphant cry. A mad scramble ensued, with everyone finally making it through just as the creatures reached the door. They beat on it furiously. It, too, wouldn't last long.

Kevin's mind was a whirl. They had to get to the basement, no, the roof, and then they needed to get a chopper, no, the police had to be called…and then what? Sent out onto the streets to die? So ends the life of a policeman? It didn't seem very-

"Hey."

They all turned to face Cindy.

"Wasn't there another women with us? That reporter lady?"

As of on cue, it came from the direction of the door:

"God, somebody help me!!"

They looked at each other warily. Nobody wanted to go back into that hellhole.

"I think we should-" Cindy began.

"I'm going." Kevin had already drawn his favorite sidearm of choice, his .45 semi-auto, and was loading it manually, bullet-by-bullet. "If I don't come back in one minute, wait another four. Then go. Sound fair?"

"Kevin, wai-"

But the intrepid police officer had already thrown the door open, shot the closest creature with his pistol, and closed the door before she could continue.

Playing the hero is his forte', after all.

END CHAPTER ONE

Hmmm? You like? Then leave me a Readers Review after the tone.

Hmmm? You don't like? Then still leave me a Readers Review after the tone. As a new author, I need all the help I can get. I'm not proud. Much.


	2. Progress

Outbreak: Darkness Falls

Chapter Two

To all those who reviewed: Thanks! You guys (and girls) are the wind beneath my T-virus enhanced, mutated wings…

I can't believe I didn't post this before, but I can be seen on the Resident Evil: Outbreak free mode server all the time under the nickname "GhettoAvenger". Don't mock me, I live in Jersey. It's a way of life here.

And, heh, nobody caught the Max Payne homage-sentence there. _The sun set with practiced bravado…_

**Downtown**** Raccoon City******

**J's Bar**

**7:00 PM******

_"Kevin, wai-"_

_But the intrepid police officer had already thrown the door open, shot the closest creature with his pistol, and closed the door before she could continue._

_Playing the hero is his forte', after all._

_That ass._

"…Nobody ever listens to me…" Cindy moaned, as she watched Kevin dash through the door.

"Welcome to my universe." Bob said sadly. Poor, poor Bob.

"And mine." Jim added. Poor, poor…no, not really.

"Uh, who are you again?" Cindy asked, a little confused. Of the group, she only knew Mark and Kevin, and that's only because they were frequent customers. Being friends with customers means big tips…

"Jim Chapman." The disheveled black man straightened his cap, a nervous tic that was ALREADY starting to become tiresome. "Hey, I got an idea! Lets go around the table and introduce ourselves! I like to know what I'm about to eat" he said sardonically, but Cindy ignored the sarcasm in his voice.

"That's actually a good idea. I'm Cindy Lennox."

"Mark Wilkins." The older man straightened out of instinct. Roll call was beginning of every morning and end of every night, back in 'Nam…

"I'm Doctor Hamilton. Oh, but please, call me George." The WASP-no, that wasn't a nice thing to call him, Cindy decided-shifted from one foot to another rapidly. It made him look like a little kid, and if it weren't for the horde of monsters outside the hallway, she might have giggled. He checked his watch.

"It's been three minutes. What's taking them so long?"

"Give him time, he'll make it." Cindy said quickly. She didn't want to abandon her best tipper, quite irrationally. "…and what's your name, again?" she nodded towards a man sulking in the corner, seemingly drawing strength from the wooden boards.

"…David."

"What, no last name?"

"King."

"I'm sure you are whitey, but she wants to know your LAST-"

"Shut up dumbass, that IS my last name." the glance he threw Jim could have paralyzed a mutant elephant, but Jim paid it no mind.

"uh…excuse me…I'm Yoko Suzuki." Her eyes darted nervously from person to person, finally settling on a

"Kevin Ryman."

"Kevin!!"

"You made it!"

"Good job, sir! I applaud you!"

And indeed, Kevin had survived, and seemed to be having little trouble in carrying the women's lithe form…

"Alyssa Ashcroft bitches, beat THAT." The red-clothed women announced, a bit haughtily.

"We'd like to, and with extreme pre-ju-dice, but we're kinda in a hurry…" Jim straightened his cap, and yelled: "Abandon Bar! Brotha's and fly bitches first!" before charging up the stairs to the staff room.

Cindy was about to start after him, but before she could make a move she was being pushed up the stairs by force.

"Move!" a gunshot, and then two, resounded clearly through the small corridor. The zombies had redoubled their pursuit.

It was more then a tragedy, it was a nightmare without end that had only just begun. As the group took the stairs, two at a time, the realization took hold that all hell had broken loose.

Jim started to laugh.

They reached the upper level staff room without further incident, the low moans of the creatures (_don't call them zombies, don't call them zombies)_ spurring them on to greater speed, only stopping when David noticed the nail gun and the 2x4's lying in a heap near the entranceway…

"Here's what I'm thinking. The roof provides the best tactical advantage here. If we can make it to the roof, we can signal for help, and pick those thangs off one at a'time."

They all turned to look at Mark. The sound of David creating his makeshift barricade was the only sound, for the moment.

"What?"

They kept staring.

"Hey, I fought in the WAR. You listen to me, and we'll get out of here alive."

Kevin considered. "Hey, that's a pretty good idea. Is there a way up, Cindy?"

"Well, through the door there, up the stairs through the liquor room…yeah, I think so. I haven't been up there, though…Jack was real strict about that. We'll need to find another key…"

Alyssa stirred from her stupor. "sscrew that sshit, I gotss it." She stumbled to the door, and began fumbling through her pockets. Retrieving a set of tools from her pants, she began to work on the lock.

_SNICK._

The door cracked open.

"Woah." Kevin remarked. "You must be a Master of Unlocking!"

A swift kick to the back of the head forestalled any more lame remarks from the policeman.

"Lock picks, dumbass. Lock picks." David muttered.

They moved onwards… and upwards. The door led to a stairway, which in turn fed into…

"Some kind of warehouse?" David said stupidly.

"Break out the beer!" Kevin cheered. Stacked up on the walls were hundreds and hundreds of the finest brews in the world, the accompanying smell so powerful that it blocked out the stench of death from the outside.

A large metal shutter blocked the way to the roof.

George moved first among them, hefting a nearby crowbar. "No choice is left to us here. We must break it down with great force."

"uHHHhhhh…"

"They're coming closer!" Mark said, drawing his own handgun from its holster. "Work fast, Doctor!" The creatures were already stumbling into view.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

BA-BAM!

On the third shot, Kevin added his own powerful weapon to the equation, sending a creature down with a well-placed headshot.

"ComeoncomeoncomeoncomeonCOMEON!" Jim yelled, as he beat at the shutter with all of his might. Frustrated, he balled up his fist and smashed it into the damaged metal. "BREAK!"

It broke. The catch keeping the shutter in place had shattered under Jim's improbable attack.

"See? I'm lucky like that." Jim said, as the others stared in utter amazement.

It didn't last. Another creature shuffled into the picture, as a dry _click _heralded the next problem.

"Empty!" Mark shouted.

"sscrew it, letss go" Alyssa moaned, as she staggered through the shutter. Taking the steps two at a time, Kevin led them to the roof. As the door turned, a burst of cold September air struck him hard in the face, mixed with the stench of the creatures. Huge, and all-encompassing, the smell could hardly be ignored. It was the smell of a decaying necropolis, going up in flames.

"It was the smell of SHUT UP AND START RUNNING!" Alyssa shouted, shoving the burly police officer from behind. He turned, startled, and stared. She half-smiled.

"Your noise was twitching. Now start moving."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jim elbowed David hard in the side. "Notice how the cop always walks away with the fly lady at the end? It's a conspiracy, I tell ya."

David turned, and stared at the man out of the corner of his eye. As he debated pulling out his switchblade and gutting the little twerp, half-seriously (but that was up 50% from the usual amount), a police bullhorn shattered the few moments of peace.

"Attention! This is the Raccoon City Police Department. Due to the riots in progress, this area will be closed off soon. Please proceed to this checkpoint-IMMEDIATELY. If you do not leave the area in time, we-CANNOT-guarantee your safety."

It was David who summed up the opinion of everyone else.

"…shit…"

"I…I can't…move anymore…"

Everyone turned abruptly.

Bob continued. "I know me…and…I'm not going to be…someone else's…burden!"

He reached into his holster, and pulled out his standard-issue pistol. Before anyone could react, he placed the barrel against his head, and-

"No! Bawb, stop!" Reflexes honed in the Jungle Conflict went into hyper mode, and Mark slammed the gun away from his friend before he could end his own life.

"No…YOU don't understand, Mark…"

David leaned closer. Something seemed…

"I'm...no different from them…."

Cindy saw it before anyone.

"I…feel…the hunger…"

George saw it next. Bob's eyes glazed over, and his head drooped in surrender.

"…Bawb?" Mark said, terrified at his old friend's condition.

"No! Get away!" Alyssa yelled, but it was too late. With a hideous groan of sorrow, the bob-monster hurled itself upon the nearest target, and Mark found himself staring into the zombified face of his closest friend.

"Nooooooo!!!!" Mark yelled. Horror gave him strength, and with a burst of adrenaline, he pushed the bob-thing off of him…

…Through a badly-rusted fence…

…And off of the building, falling three stories before smashing apart like a pumpkin on Mischief night.

For a moment, Mark could only stare.

"BAAAAWWWBBB!!!!"

He yelled into the bitter September air.

"Not you too…they're all dead…" he sobbed. The war had nearly overwhelmed him, but compared to this…the Vietcong devils were like angels compared to…

Cindy approached him first. Gently taking his shoulders, she led him away from the grisly site.

"Shit!" Kevin said suddenly. "The time limit!"

And it all came rushing back. The zombies, the RPD barricading off the area and leaving them to starve…or worse…

The next building seemed a long ways away.

"We have to try it anyway." Kevin said. A well placed kick destroyed the gate barring their way. Not a moment too soon: the creatures from the bar finally smashed through the stout metal door, moaning as they saw their prey rapidly disappear into the distance.

Cindy Lennox led the way, stopping at the point where the space between buildings was the shortest.

There was a short pause.

"I'll go, then." George said, making up his mind. He took a step back, then two, and finally running forward and throwing himself across the expanse. "YAAA!" He shouted, pulling himself up.

"Next person, then." George called.

Cindy made her choice, as well. She hurled herself towards the cheap apartment building like she was Indiana Jones.

As it was, she barely got her hands on the other side. Stupid high-heels.

"God!" she yelled, more of a prayer then a curse. Somebody evidently heard her, for the next moment, she was surrounded by crows.

"You disturbed their nest when you hit it!" Kevin yelled, taking aim and firing into the murder. Several fell to his weapon before the murder came to a decision.

If being surrounded by a hundred crows is bad, being pecked at by that number is worse.

"I can't hold on much longer!" she cried to the man above her, praying that he could hear her over the crow's noise.

"You gotta be kidding me! Zombie CROWS?!!" Jim cried.

"Hold on, Cindy!" George called. "Don't panic!" as he stretched himself just a little further…

Suddenly, the two locked eyes, and George was hit with the sure knowledge that it was too late-

Cindy started to fall.

- - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- -

A/N: Phew, I finally updated this thing! Or "Thang", if you speak like Mark. I didn't get to update before because of a 3-week trip to Italy, and then a lot of home repairs and the like…a bit of free time here, though, and a little there, and wham! An update. A 2 AM caffeine-powered update, but text is text, regardless of its content. I gotta go lie down. Peace, yo.


End file.
